Barren Prologue
by silverdoe91
Summary: AU of Catching Fire where Katniss & Peeta actually get married and she receives a second visit from President Snow before the Quarter Quell.
1. Chapter 1

The second visit I received from President Snow was an event that was hard to forget. It haunted my nightmares every night that followed.

It happened on a Thursday afternoon. It was a chilly November day and I was returning to my mansion in the Victor's Village after a long hike from my mom's house in the Seam. As my house came into view, I noticed two burly Peacekeepers stood guard at the front entrance. I knew this could only mean trouble.

By the time I arrived at the house, I was a little worried, but I tried not to let it show. I took a deep breath and opened the gate.

As soon as I stepped over the threshold and made just one step towards the house, one of the colossal Peacekeepers standing at the door announced my name and began barking orders at me. "Katniss Everdeen. President Coriolanus Snow requests your presence. You must confirm that you have no weapons of assault on your person or in your possession at this time. Only then you will be authorized to move further onto the premises."

President Snow. I felt my insides freeze over and my eyebrows automatically stitch up in fury. I carefully walked down the rest of the path until I reached the door where the Peacekeepers stood dauntingly with their guns drawn out at their sides.

"No weapons," I said plainly, holding my arms out as proof. I stood at the entrance waiting to gain access into my home.

The Peacekeepers shifted a step on either side, leaving just enough room for me to wedge my way towards the door. I noticed the door was slightly ajar so I gave it a light shove and it groaned as it gave way. My stomach twirled as the stench of roses and blood reached my nose. I observed there was another guard stationed at the end of the hall near the entrance of the living room. That must be where President Snow was. I took several nervous steps in his direction, trying not to faint as the foul smell grew in its intensity.

I felt the Peacekeeper's watchful gaze on me as I took a right, turning into the living room. I gulped down the fear swelling in my throat as I took in the view before me.


	2. Chapter 2

President Snow was seated on an armchair parallel to the fireplace with an empty chair facing towards him. He turned his stout head in my direction and fixed his snakelike eyes on mine.

"Katniss," he leered dragging out the last syllable with his heavy Capitol drawl. "Or shall I say Mrs. Mellark. Please, take a seat." He motioned to the vacant chair in front of him.

I walked over cautiously and took my place opposite him.

There was another Peacekeeper stationed by the fireplace, directly behind my chair. I could feel him hovering over me, his fingers rapping faintly against the rifle strapped around his shoulder. The flames to my right flickered and cracked in the silence.

"We have the same system in place I presume? No lies, Mrs. Mellark," he stipulated with an air of caution.

"Yes." I nodded my head weakly. I tried not to wince every time he referred to me as Mrs. Mellark.

"Lovely," he smiled sitting back in his chair. "How did you enjoy your wedding night?"

"It was very…extravagant," I said trying to keep my answers as close to the truth as possible.

"Yes, it was, wasn't it? We exhausted approximately nine million dollars on the feast."

I cringed at the sum. The seven course meal would have been better served to the millions of viewers watching the broadcast of the wedding from their homes rather than the Capitol attendees that threw up half the food and discarded the rest.

"Of course, that is a modest toll to spend on a wedding for two Victors. I daresay the crowds throughout the districts thoroughly enjoyed watching the program." He continued with a note of sourness in his voice. "However, with investments as high as these, particular demands must be met."

Demands? Didn't I already meet his demands by carrying through with the wedding?

"The rules of our time-honored tradition were broken, for the love of two individuals. And a nine million dollar wedding was held to sanctify this union. Yet, the people of Panem want something more…_concrete_ to prove the existence of this love." A sinister smile spread across Snow's fleshy face. "The districts are already buzzing with excitement to witness the birth of child with not one but two parents who are Victors."

That explains the whole slew of questions Peeta and I had to endure in the past few weeks concerning our plans on having children.

"With a love as sure as yours, Mrs. Mellark, I have no doubt you and your husband will manage to have children in no time. The question is, _when_?"

_My husband. Peeta. Where is he when I need him to lie for me? He's so much better at it than I am. _

I swallowed anxiously.

I guess I have no choice but to continue sticking with the truth.


	3. Chapter 3

"I can't have children."

President Snow seemed taken aback by my unyielding response.

"And why is that, Mrs. Mellark?" he asked with an inquisitive look on his face.

This is when I concluded that an honest answer wouldn't suffice.

"Because…I'm barren," I stated plainly, trying to keep my voice steady and my gaze directly on his.

A condescending laugh escaped Snow's artificially inflated lips. "That's what your husband said in the interview with Ceasar, Mrs. Mellark. Only when he said it I actually believed him."

_Husband? My mind reeled for a moment while I sorted out the confusion. Oh, yeah. I remember now. My husband is Peeta. The one who is decorating cakes at the moment when he should be here with me!_

"But I _am_ barren," I insisted hurriedly. "We've been trying and nothing's worked so far."

"Don't lie to me, Katniss," Snow hissed with contempt in his voice. "There are two beds in this house, each in separate rooms. I am not one to be fooled."

"Why is it so important that I have children?"I demanded furiously.

Snow let out a slow, ominous chuckle as if my irritability was amusing. His breath reeked of a putrid mix of blood and rotting flesh.

"Do you honestly think that after a tribute wins the Games and is crowned Victor, that we just…_leave __him __alone_?" Snow asked making a sweeping gesture with his flabby hand. "That we just leave him here with a fortune at his feet and a mansion at his disposal, with no occupation to take up his time?"

"I'll be at the Reaping every year. And I'll be mentoring tributes throughout the games," I assure him hastily.

"Yes, and what will you be doing for the remaining eleven months of the year?"

"I'll be working on my talent."

"No, you'll be raising children. It will fit in perfectly with the star-crossed lover theme," he asserted.

"I told you already, that's not happening," I declared decisively. I could feel my frustration slipping out of my control.


	4. Chapter 4

"Oh, then, you want options, I suppose?" he offered pointedly. "Well, let's see what the other Victors are doing at the moment. We have Johanna Mason who's spent the last couple years on morphling, a rather large portion of our Victors are particularly fond of that treatment. Then there's Ms. Annie Cresta who has resided in the Capitol's finest psychiatric hospital for nearly a decade. She needs medication from time to time or her nightmares get too…vivid. And of course, there's Haymitch, who I'm sure you know occupies his time with his incessant penchant for drink. Do you know what all these individuals have in common, Mrs. Mellark?"

_They all got screwed over by the Capitol. _

Snow waited a moment before he detected that he wasn't going to get an answer.

"All these individuals were not _compliant_."

"I would gladly be compliant, if only you gave me more of an option."

"Katniss Everdeen. The girl on fire. The girl with the poisonous _berries_. Why don't we go over the options that we have available for _you_," President Snow complied in a scornful tone. "We can't make you an avox, because everyone will recognize your face. Unless of course, we horribly disfigure your face, which is entirely doable if that's the option that you choose."

I shook my head profusely.

_I do not want to be an avox. The few encounters I've had with the red-haired avox girl made it clear that it was a terrible fate to bear. I still remember the hint of sorrow in her eyes.I will not spend the rest of my life serving the stuck-up members of the Capitol while they regard me as only a piece of furniture._

"Another option we have is to use your celebrity status to benefit the Capitol," Snow explained slowly. "Throughout the ages, Victors have garnered quite a lot of attention from the citizens of the Capitol. In fact, many citizens would go so far as to pay a hefty price to arrange an encounter with a Victor. One Victor in particular, Mr. O'Dair, has been very successful in procuring a large clientele for the benefit of the Capitol."

_O'Dair—where had I heard his name before? He was a Victor, so I must have seen him on TV before._

"You have heard of Finnick O'Dair, haven't you?"

_Finnick O'Dair. I vaguely remember the girls at school mentioning a name like that. I think Madge might have told me that he had a string of affairs with a host of women in the Capitol. I never could understand why anyone from the Districts would be attracted to the freakish demeanor of Capitol women. I tried to accommodate this piece of information with what I just learned._

_Clientele?_


	5. Chapter 5

"His clients were…women?" I proposed bashfully, trying to piece together the knowledge I had only acquired.

"And sometimes men," President Snow asserted flashing a disturbing smile in my direction. "Its incredible how much of a fortune can be made in the sale of a fourteen year old boy who has just won the Games."

_I remember now. Finnick O'Dair was only fourteen when he won the 64th Hunger Games. He wasn't much to contend with at the start of the Games, but towards the end he received a Trident from one of his sponsors, which is when he went completely ballistic and slaughtered the remaining few tributes. They must have begun auctioning him off to the Capitol immediately after he had won. And kept him in the trade for the past ten years. That's why he was with all of those women from the Capitol. All of a sudden it dawned on me that the only thing stopping me from a similar fate was my marriage to Peeta. _

President Snow's beefy jaws spread into an unsettling leer as he continued.

"I daresay a female Victor would amass a higher value in that market, don't you agree?"

At that moment I realized what he was implying. My jaw tightened and my eyebrows furrowed in agitation.

"Especially one as innocent as _you_, Katniss," Snow dug further in his ridicule. "I'm sure there are several Capitol patrons that would be willing to pay a substantial price for you."

My face flushed. "I would rather die." I asserted through clenched teeth.

"Of course, you would," Snow agreed with a cordial smile. "Unfortunately, that's not an option. However, that can be arranged for your family members. This year's Quarter Quell will be particularly interesting. I am of the opinion that if we coordinate it so that only relatives of the previous years' Victors can participate, it will be absolutely _delightful_."

_My mother's far too old to compete anymore. I can only see this proposition for what it really is. A direct attack on Prim._

"Leave my sister out of this," I blurted out furiously, narrowing my eyes.

"This year, I'm afraid you won't be eligible to stand in for her, Katniss," Snow said with an artificial look of concern plastered on his face. "Although you might be able to mentor her—show her the ropes, so to speak."

_Never. I would never train my sister to go through everything I had to go through._

All of a sudden, I heard a scornful chuckling noise escape from behind my chair. The Peacekeeper was still standing guard by the fireplace. I had forgotten he was there. I didn't even know Peacekeepers were allowed to laugh.


	6. Chapter 6

I thought about my options before I realized I had none. Any action I would take would automatically be misconstrued as an act of defiance, and put my sister's life in danger. Prim didn't deserve to be punished for my mistakes. I had no choice but to comply with Snow's demands. "Tell me what to do,and I'll do it," I finally conceded. "Just please—leave her out of this."

"Now, that is the attitude of a true Victor. Always putting the welfare of others before yourself," Snow said approvingly. "Being a Victor is an honor of the highest caliber, Mrs. Mellark, and with that honor comes several obligations. Victors are expected to be model citizens of Panem and are obligated to set an example for the rest of the nation. That being said, there are some rules you must follow."

President Snow slowly motioned with his hand and in an instant I heard the guard behind me shuffling at his feet. A moment later I saw him move into my peripheral view and place a heavy book on my lap. On its cover lay the symbol of Panem, carved in gold; its background was drenched in a deep red, all too reminiscent of the stifling stench of blood that currently permeated the room.

I opened the book to the first page and found the same symbol stamped above a title that read: _"Laws __of __Conduct __in __Panem."_

"We both know how fond you are of rules," Snow remarked snidely.

"I suggest you familiarize yourself with the contents of this book," he spat at me narrowing his dark beady eyes. "If you or any of your colleagues take so much as one step out of line, I assure you, there will be consequences."

I swallowed down the fear that surged inside of me. I didn't want to find out what those consequences might be.

"Why don't you go ahead and read what it says on page 137," he directed.

I silently turned through the book until I reached a page marked, "Penalties for Poaching on Capitol Grounds." I read the title aloud and was automatically gripped by horror as I scanned down the long list of penalties that continued on to the next page.

"You do understand what that means, yes?"

"No hunting," I answered grimly. _How __long __had __he __known __about __my __hunting __activities? __And __what __did __that __mean __for __Gale?_

"Good," he chided. "And tell that boyfriend of yours, too."

"I don't have a boyfriend," I stated in all honesty.

"Yet you choose to spend an extraordinary amount of time with a strapping young man that is outside the constraints of your marriage."

"You mean my cousin?" I quickly corrected.

"Whatever he is, make sure he abides by the rules and he can continue working in the mines without any disruptions."

"Disruptions?"

"Yes. The kind that can kill dozens, perhaps even hundreds of citizens, working below ground level."

"You mean, like a mining accident?" I stammered, trying not to sound as feeble as I felt.


	7. Chapter 7

My mind rushed back to the ill-fated day four years ago when my teacher announced that an accident had occurred at the mines. I was the first one at the scene but the last one to leave. Even after everyone else had gone home, I continued to wait among the ruins, refusing to believe that my father was gone, willing him to come out from underneath all the debris that littered the ground. But he didn't.

I kept thinking that he would come home one day. That perhaps he had really been hiding out in the woods at the time of the accident. In my mind, he was safe and sound, just really far off in the woods and slowly making his way back home. But as the days went by, I gradually learned to accept that he wasn't coming home, and that I had lost him forever.

"Oh no, Mrs. Mellark, mines rarely blow up by accident. Not in Panem. You see, we have a perfectly built system of underground grenades installed in the mining part of town. They work much like pods would in a Game. They can be activated at any time," he said with the patronizing leer on his face growing ever wider. "All it takes is the push of a button."

"But why…" I trailed off unable to finish my question. I suddenly felt weak and light-headed.

"To send a message to the citizens of Panem— that the Capitol is powerful and secure and is only getting stronger. The officials of the government feel that the districts need to be reminded of this every now and then. It has proven to be quite an effective method of persuasion in the past."

_A message? That's what my father's death was? And the dozens of other miners that lost their lives in that same incident—their deaths were nothing more than a small element of a cruel stunt made to remind us that the Capitol controlled every part of our lives._

"But, of course, all this can be avoided as long as you follow the rules that are transcribed in that book and fulfill your obligations as a Victor. Your obligation as a Victor is a simple one—to bear children. A task that shouldn't be so hard to do, seeing as how you're _madly in love_ with your husband. Imagine what an honor it'll be to give up your children for their first reaping. You and your husband can train them. They'll be the most skilled and most celebrated tributes Panem has ever seen. For every Game they win, they will only be adding to the glory of your family's name. You will go down in history as the mother of Victors, the creator of a line of champions."

_The creator of a line of murderers would be closer to the truth._

"But it is up to _you_ to make that choice. You see, I am a generous man, Mrs. Mellark, which is why I am willing to give you a generous offer. If you agree to comply with this demand, I guarantee that your sister will be exempt from ever having to take part in a reaping again. I'm giving you the most generous offer you can get; so what do you say? Will you accept my offer?"


	8. Chapter 8

_If I don't accept the offer, then I will most certainly put Prim's life in danger. If I do, then I'll be expected to bear children and essentially raise them up for slaughter. But the immediacy of the former situation made it more menacing than the latter. At least in the second situation I would have time to devise an effective plan. So I would have to accept the offer, if only to buy me more time._

"Yes," I whispered in a tone that was barely audible.

"Do I have your word on that?"

"You do," I stated more clearly this time.

"Excellent. Now, Katniss, will you please be so kind as to extend your right arm?"

I tentatively outstretched my arm in his direction, wondering what he was intending to do with it. Did he force people to sign contracts with their own blood? Or worse, did he drink the blood of his victims? Perhaps that is why he reeked of the vile scent, and its odor only grew stronger every time he opened his mouth to speak.

I held my arm out, trying to keep it steady and willing it not to shake. I waited for the President to act, partially expecting him to lunge at me and sink his teeth into my skin. But he merely leaned back further into the cushion of his armchair, as though he were waiting for something to happen.

Suddenly, the Peacekeeper at the end of the room began to stir. He silently made his way over to my chair and grabbed a hold of my outstretched arm and rolled up the sleeve of my shirt up to my elbow. The other Peacekeeper that stood guard behind my chair inched closer to the fireplace and out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a glimmer of the metallic instrument he held in his hand.

The Peacekeeper on my left tightened his hold around my wrist, and with his free hand, he gripped my shoulders, pinning me down against the chair. My eyes fell on the object the second Peacekeeper held in his hand as he lifted it from the fire. It was a long metal rod with a flat circular end that glowed bright red from the contact with the flames now thrashing in the fireplace. I automatically knew what the device was used for and my eyes widened with fear. I wanted to scream but compelled myself to keep silent, instead digging my fingernails into the shards of wood in my chair. I couldn't let myself show them any sign of fear.

The Peacekeeper to my right slowly lowered the instrument in his hand and the instant it made contact with my arm, I could feel the scalding sensation of the metal burning my skin. I winced and gritted my teeth to bear the pain. Over the sizzling sound of my skin melting I heard a soft cackling noise escape from President Snow's direction.

Finally, after a several moments of intense agony, I felt the metal rod being lifted from my skin. I slowly opened my eyes and saw that the burn mark left on my skin was shaped in the form of the nation's emblem, the circular symbol of Panem, which was now stamped on my forearm.

"A token of our agreement," President Snow explained.

He leaned forward and stood up. "This will be our last conference, I'm afraid. But do keep in mind, Mrs. Mellark, we'll be watching you." He fixed his beady, snake like eyes on me for the last time before he turned to leave, with his guards close at his heel.


End file.
